Stairs and I haven’t gotten along well this week. Climbing them was uncomfortable enough, but going <em>down</em> stairs? Completely and utter agony.


So I’ve completed four of the thirty days I promised I’d spend with Ms. Michaels, and I’ve never been this sore in my entire life. Not during double sessions of soccer during high school. Not after my first spinning class. This has been pain that’s left me walking oddly, wincing when I laugh and otherwise reconnecting with muscles that my cardio-riffic (relatively speaking) self had forgotten. I know it’s a good thing, but GOOD LORD OWOWOW!

After yesterday’s session, I was staring to wonder why on earth I was doing this to myself. I mean, I have to travel down a lot of stairs in my day-to-day, something I was realizing all too well.

And then a wonderful thing happened. When I got home from work this evening, I didn’t think I’d be able to get through the workout. I’d felt lousy all day (the kind that comes with healthy food in my regular day and not-so-healthy drink at karaoke night) and worried that Jillian would actually win for once.

My thought process: try to do as much as I can and give up for the night when my body fought against me.

What actually happened: I felt better during the workout than I’ve felt all week. And I felt better AFTER the workout.

Jillian, I will beat you yet. And when this is all said and done? I might even thank you.